Author's Note:
I've written this World of Warcraft story a long time ago, before the Cataclysm expansion was released. This means that, thanks to Deathwing, the places in Darkshore in this story no longer excist in the game. Also, some Hunter and Rogue abilities are different too.
Sharas Autumnshade pulled himself up and over the stone wall that surrounded the ruins of Mathystra. Stars sparkled in the sky above and the silvery rays of the moon glinted off broken marble columns and collapsed buildings.
Once this city must have been beautiful, Sharas mused, as he landed lightly on his feet on the other side. Now however, it was overrun by the Naga; evil creatures with the torso of a human, the head of a fish and a thick tail instead of legs. The fabled city of Mathystra was a shadow of its former glory. No more then a memory of the time before the destruction of the Well of Eternity.
Well, not that he could do anything about it now he thought happily. The best he could do was to enjoy a little excitement and steal those precious relics right from under the Naga's noses.
With the caution of a practiced rogue, he moved silently through the ghostly streets, looking around for any signs of danger. The Stormscale Naga were patrolling the ruined streets, but Sharas avoided them easily.
Rounding another corner, Sharas stopped at the sight of an impressive temple. It dominated the large plaza, dwarfing all other structures around it. It was worn and weathered over the ages, but it still hadn't lost anything of its former splendor.
Broad, stone stairs led to a row of marble columns, sculptured in the likeliness of huge, roaring Nightsabers. In the shadow of the pillars was an ironbound door. One half of the double doors stood ajar as if it invited Sharas in. The Night Elf grinned. Stealthily, he ascended the stairs and slipped in.
Inside there was an ever present gloom of menace and mystery. The feeling sent a shiver down the Elf's spine and for a moment it made him reconsider his bold choice of coming alone.
With a shake of his head he dismissed his superstitious thoughts and continued down the hall.
After two hours of sneaking around and dodging Naga patrols, Sharas still hadn't found a thing. No relics, no gems, not even a single copper. Not wanting to leave empty handed he stalked the temple halls again and again.
Suddenly he tripped and almost fell. Angry with himself for not having paid attention he moved to inspect whatever it was he tripped over.
It seemed to be a small, ebony box. Intricate runes were carved into the wood and a little silver lock held the lid firmly shut. Sharas recognized the Highborne runes. This was what he was looking for.
With a grin he pulled out his lock picks, selected the right one and got down to work.
A faint 'click' told the Night Elf he had successfully picked the lock. He opened the lid and looked. A sparkling silver ring in the form of a dragon's head lay inside on a cushion of silk. It had curved horns and two upper fangs. It had only one eye however; a blood red ruby which gleamed with cold malice.
Sharas frowned. Although the box was definitely Elven made, the ring was not. It gave off such an evil aura that it was either demonic in nature or just corrupted by something far more ancient.
The Night Elf wondered how a ring like this had come to be in the possession of the Highborne.
Still, despite the mysterious loss of the other eye, it would be worth a fortune. Sharas knew a collector in Darnassus who would pay handsomely for a treasure like this.
Acting on sudden impulse, Sharas slipped the ring on his finger and admired the detailed dragon's head. If he was very lucky the ring could even be magical. Maybe he would just keep it. Magic items were very rare and could make you very powerful. He didn't believe those demon stories anyway. It was just a ring right? What could be evil about it?
Suddenly the dragon's fangs curved downwards and bit deep into the Elf's flesh. With a surprised yelp Sharas tried to pull the ring of, but the silver fangs held on and just bit harder. The pain he felt was excruciating and he had to clamp his teeth down to keep from crying out. Oddly enough, the growing pain was mixed with a strange feeling of power building up in him. Sharas however, hadn't much time to think this over because just then, the pain became unbearable, and the unfortunate Rogue lapsed into unconsciousness.
Sharas awoke on exactly the same spot where he'd lost consciousness. The pain was gone, but a throbbing in the back of his head remained. He felt different and yet strangely comfortable.
He sat up and raised his hand to massage his temple. The pale light of the sun that had managed to slip through the cracks in the domed ceiling glinted off the silver, dragon's head ring that was still on Sharas' finger. He saw what he somehow had already expected to see; The dragon's fangs were not driven into his flesh. The texture of his skin was as smooth as it had always been.
With a stifled yawn he picked himself up from the floor and started to leave the temple, not bothering to use stealth. His footsteps echoed through the shadowy hallway, but Sharas felt he had no reason to fear the sinister gloom or the Stormscale Naga. Not anymore.
With ease he opened both of the ironbound doors, which had not been opened for hundreds of years. Daylight flooded into the temple and Sharas lifted his hand to ward off the bright sunlight. Sounds of a battle being fought drifted his way and he squinted to see what was happening.
Below him, on the plaza grounds, was a fight between Naga and a group of tree Orcs and one Troll. It was not much of a fight. The Naga were going down in fast succession. Sharas flexed his muscles. The Horde would notice him soon enough and he would be ready.
One of the Orcs saw him first. He nudged his companions and pointed. They looked tough and armed to the teeth. Sharas wasn't overly concerned though. Something in the back of his mind stirred and he felt an unknown power taking control. Sharas let it take him over without a second thought.
"Lok-Narash!"
The group advanced and they grinned confidently. Killing a few Naga's was fun, but not nearly as good as killing a scrawny Night Elf.
Sharas calmly descended the stairs. "Come, Horde scum," he said menacingly and beckoned them over.
The leader snarled a curse in his barbaric tongue and ordered his cronies to kill the Night Elf.
The first Orc that came at Sharas looked eager as he swung his axe in a mighty arc that should have chopped the Night Elf in two. Sharas' hand caught the axe in midair. In one fluid motion his other hand shot up with lightning speed and grabbed the brute by the throat and lifted him clean off his feet. The ruby eye of the dragon head ring shone bright red as Sharas slowly squeezed the life out of his enemy.
The others eyes widened at the sight of their companion being dispatched off so easily. Anger made them forget that there was something odd about the passionless killer, that he could not have lifted their friend without the guidance of powerful magic. They closed in, axes leading.
Sharas threw the dead Orc aside and drew a weapon of his own; a slender long sword, and stepped forward. Blood trickled from the palm of his hand where he had caught the axe. Yet he felt no pain and instead focused his attention on the advancing Horde.
Sharas parried the first attack and made a lunge for the Orc's belly. The Orc sidestepped with surprising agility and delivered a tremendous blow to the Rogue's head with the pommel of his axe. Sharas staggered backwards, shook his head and advanced again. His second attack ripped the Orc's tunic and blood flowed freely from the open chest wound. The Orc dropped his axe to clutch at his chest and sunk to his knees. Sharas plunged his sword into the Orc's body, wounding him fatally.
Deftly sidestepping the attack of the Troll, the Night Elf swung his sword again, but this time his opponent managed to deflect the blow and sank his own curved blade deep into Sharas' sword arm. The thief did not seem to notice however and just kept on fighting, the dragon's head ring guiding his strokes and absorbing his pain. With deadly precision he cut off the Trolls head.
The impact of a large blade being driven between his shoulder blades made Sharas stumble. He recovered swiftly and spun around. Sheras felt no pain, but could feel the life beat of his heart fade quickly. With his last strength he sprang at his enemy and ran his sword through the Orc. Dying, they both dropped to their knees.
The gleam in the ruby eye faded as the Elven thief drew his last breath.
Many years later…
Looking out over the VeiledSea, Ayana sighed happily. The sea was calm, the weather was nice and Winter, her companion wolf, sat next to her. She was waiting in Rut'theran Village for the boat to take her to Auberdine. Of course, she could have taken a flight on one of the hippogryphs, but Ayana liked sailing better. Standing on the upper deck, staring out over the sea, she took in the salty smell of the sea.
She loved to wait. It made her feel more one with nature. Winter growled his acknowledgement and Ayana tussled his white mane affectionately. It had been a long journey to befriend the white wolf. It took her all the way to Dun Morogh. There he had been, on a small snowy island in the middle of a frozen lake. His two wolf guards had defended him ferociously and her future friend had not given up easily. Ayana had named him Winter, to remind her of the beautiful snow mountains and cold climate.
Now she would undertake another journey. But this time it was much closer to home. When she was young she was told the tale of Sharas Autumnshade, her grandfather. How he had vanished in search of ancient relics in the Ruins of Mathystra.
Ayana wanted to know what had become of him. At the very least she wanted to find his remains so they could be buried. She thought back to her grandfather. He was the black sheep in her family. He was a rascal and a very stubborn one at that. He never missed the opportunity to make himself scarce, especially when there was work to be done. Sharas never liked to work and his skills seemed to mould around his kind of living. He always vanished when he was needed and if you ever lost something, Sharas was the one who gave it back with a knowing smile. Yes, he loved to tease people, but never in a nasty way.
One day Sharas found out about the Ruins of Mathystra. He couldn't stop talking about it until he finally gathered the equipment he needed. He took off without saying goodbye. Sharas Authumshade never came back.
Ayana wanted to find out what had happened to him. Had he died or had he just chosen to leave Darnassus forever? She hoped to find some kind of indication of him.
Sails appeared on the horizon and Ayana smiled. She readjusted the bow on her shoulder and shifted her backpack in a more comfortable position. The ship docked and she strode confidently aboard. Winter followed her like a snow-white shadow.
The trip was fast and uneventful. Ayana enjoyed the salty air and the soft breeze. When she arrived in Auberdine the sun was already setting. She booked a room in the inn and ordered something to eat. Tomorrow she would begin her search to find out what happened to her grandfather.
The next morning came on misty and cold. Ayana took a quick breakfast and bought a few extra supplies for her trek into the forest. She also checked to make sure that her quiver was full. She waved at the mistress of the inn and she was off.
The forest of Darkshore was always shadowy. The light of the sun could find few spots to shine through because of the dense canopy. Tendrils of mist floated through the trees, giving everything a mysterious feel. Ayana was unconcerned however. She knew she was well equipped to deal with possible problems should they arise. Her trek to the Ruins of Mathystra should be easy.
Edward Chandler yawned and stretched his muscles. His bones creaked in protest, but then they always creaked. Unless he didn't want them to of course. Making noise when you were a Rogue was never good for the trade.
Lounging in a chair on the upper level of the Tarren Mill inn, Edward threw one last glance at the documents on the table next to him. Were they true? He pondered. If so then it would complicate matters greatly. Not that he doubted his extraordinary skill, but you could never be too cautious.
With a sigh he stood and gathered the documents and the rest of his belongings. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder Edward left his room and took the stairs down. He had already paid for his stay so he gave the innkeeper a nod and left. In the stables he sought out his skeletal mare. He had purchased her recently and she had made his travels much, much easier.
Edward packed his saddlebags and led his horse outside. There he mounted and spurred the mare on to a gallop. Edward smiled as the wind whipped his hair and his clothes and whistled through his skeletal frame. This was life he thought. Free like a bird. And when he had found what he was looking for then he would be enormously rich as well. To be free was nice, but to be free and rich was even better.
Green hills moved past and the landscape gradually changed into a dark pine forest. Edward galloped on and finally the outline of a large tower came into view. Edward dismounted at the base of the tower and led his mare up to a platform. A grinning Goblin looked up.
"She should arrive soon, my dear Undead friend. My zeppelin will take you to Orgrimmar in a jiffy. May I ask what you plan to do in the city?"
"I'm not staying in the Orc city. My travels will take me far into Darkshore."
"Ah," the Goblin's eyes glittered and he softened his voice. "Going to do some treasure hunting in enemy territory? They say those Elves held quite some nice and valuable relics in the past."
Edward smiled. Those Goblins were always after money. Perhaps he could make a deal out of this. Before he could though, the zeppelin to Orgrimmar arrived. As Edward moved to catch it, the Goblin called after him.
"Let me know if you find anything worthwhile and we can make a deal friend. You know where you can find me."
Edward waved and boarded the zeppelin. Perhaps he might contact the Goblin, perhaps not. It all depended on his success.
After a long flight the zeppelin docked at Orgrimmar. Edward unloaded his mare and took her down. Then he steered in the direction of Razorhill.
It was a smooth ride from Durotar to The Barrens. The temperature was hot and dry, but Edward didn't mind. Soon he would enter the lush forests of Ashenvale. He wasn't much into nature, but even he felt the calm en serenity that the place exuded.
His mind went back to the documents that rested in his saddlebags. A peddler had approached him and asked him if he wanted to buy a valuable document. In it were the directions to a great Night Elf treasure, dating back to the time of the Highborne. Edward had looked the information over. The directions were sketchy at best and the description of the treasure rather vague. Still it had caught his interest the moment he saw that the place was cursed by a demon. Edward loved a challenging treasure hunt and decided to buy the documents. He feigned disinterest - he was a natural - and made a counter offer. After some haggling back and forth the documents changed ownership.
In the Tarren Mill inn Edward read everything thoroughly. It turned out that, after Mathystra was destroyed, one of the Highborne treasures contained a ring which was possesed by a demonic entity. It had been heavily guarded because it was a very dangerous item. The ring disappeared the moment the city had been destroyed. After that, the documents say, the ring itself chooses when and by whom it will be found.
Of course, it was only a legend. Nothing to worry about right? Still…better watch out for a dragonhead ring with ruby eyes. If he ever found it he could sell it for a fortune.
After a long journey Edward finally galloped into the forest of Darkshore. He chose to stick to the forest instead of the road. This was Night Elf territory after all and he didn't want to get caught. After dodging some wild bears and cats he arrived at the Ruins of Mathystra. Immediately he started his search for treasure.
After an uneventful walk Ayana reached the first broken buildings of Mathystra. She froze when she saw movement off to her left. Someone was turning over pieces of rubble with great interest. It was clear that the person was searching for something. Ayana decided to give him the benefit of doubt, but then she saw him put one of his findings away in a bag.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Put that back." She strode forward to stop him.
The other person whipped around to face her. Then he visibly relaxed and he even smiled. It was one of the Forsaken, Ayana realised with shock. He was her enemy and that meant she had to stop him from taking the treasures of the Night Elves. She took her bow from her shoulder and glared.
Winter growled and Ayana was feeling just as angry. With her bow firm in her grip she stared daggers at the Undead.
Edward leant casually against a broken column and smirked. He lifted his hands in a complacent gesture.
"Lady, I can see you're young and inexperienced, so really, it would be better for both of us if you would just move along. And might I add: anything you find within these ruins is free game. No one owns this place. Well, the Naga perhaps, but they have no claim on anything. If I find your precious Highborne relics sooner then you, you just have to live with it."
Ayana bristled at those words, but before she could respond a sharp hiss distracted her. She looked around and from behind a marble wall a group of Stormscale Naga's slithered. They held large curved blades and they looked positively murderous.
Before she knew it the Undead was holding two swords of his own. He was still looking at ease however and he even winked at her. "Let's continue our introductions later shall we? Let's slay some Naga."
Ayana grudgingly agreed. Winter lowered himself to the ground and tensed, ready to spring forward at her command.
Edward vanished. Ayana suspected he could take care of himself. She aimed at the Naga and let her arrow fly. As if on cue, Winter launched himself at his mistress' target.
While Ayana picked off the Naga from a distance, Edward appeared in a whirling cloud of flashing blades. The Naga fell one by one and they didn't even see him coming.
The last Stormscale Naga broke away from the fight and fled to the safety of the ruins' many crumbling walls. Ayana loosed an arrow and although she hit the Naga, the creature slithered on and disappeared around a corner.
"Get him!" she ordered Winter. The big white wolf ran after the Naga and was gone as well.
Bow still in her hand Ayana followed suit. Shrugging, Edward trailed behind.
Ayana rounded the corner and found herself on a large and impressive plaza. Winter was lying flat on his belly, waiting for her. She immediately saw why Winter had broke off his attack. The runaway Naga had joined forces with a lot of his friends and they were making a stand before a great temple. Most were holding weapons, but some of them did not. Ayana looked around to where the Undead was hiding, but Edward was nowhere to be seen.
So typical, she thought. Never trust a member of the Horde.
Steeling herself she raised her bow, but this time she nocked three arrows at the same time. When she loosed them, all three branched out and struck three different targets. The armed Naga's charged, but the last three started to cast spells.
Ayana grimaced. This could be nasty. She quickly prepared a trap and shot a few more arrows at her assailants. The leader ran right into her trap en froze. Winter jumped on another Naga but then the rest of them were upon her. Ayana stabbed one with her polearm and then she sprang backwards. As soon as she landed on her feet she fired her arrows again.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw how one of the spellcasters was butchered mercilessly by Edward. Another was swaying on her tail and stared dumbly off in the distance. So, the Undead had decided to join after all, she thought.
Suddenly her trap broke and the big leader charged at her. Winter snapped at his back and the Naga turned around to slash at the wolf. Before she could shoot an arrow the rest of the Naga were upon her and she was forced to use her polearm again.
Out of nowhere the Undead rogue appeared and after a few deft strikes the weapon of one of the Naga's was sent flying. Ayana used the confusion to leap backwards and launched another shot of three arrows at once. Without much difficulty both she and the Rogue killed off the Naga.
Wiping his dirty hand on his leather pants the Undead offered Ayana his bony hand. After a slight hesitation she shook it.
"I'm known as Edward Chandler, Rogue extraordinaire."
"My name is Ayana Autumnshade and this is my friend Winter."
Edward reached out to pet the wolf, but Winter had other ideas. He growled and snapped his teeth together just inches away from his fingers. Edward snatched his hand back quickly.
"Right," he continued. "Where were we? Oh yeah, I told you I was going to keep the relics I found and you were going to object."
Edward crossed his arms and waited for Ayana to react.
The Night Elf cocked her head. "Do you hear that?" she asked softly.
Edward frowned. "Eh? I don't hear anything."
"Exactly. Don't you think that's a little strange? This place is crawling with Naga. By now the lot of them should have heard our battle and probably want to avenge their friends. But there's no one."
Edward looked around nervously, his cocky attitude failing him momentarily.
At that moment a cold wind picked up from out of nowhere. whimpered and lay down at Ayana's feet. At the centre of the plaza something was appearing. It was large, with two bat-like wings. His grotesque head sported massive horns and a leering smile showed rows of sharp teeth.
"So the legends were true," Edward whispered.
"What did you say?" Ayana hissed. "You knew this beast was here all along?"
"According to legend it was. But I didn't believe it was true. Until now that is," he added apologetically.
"Hmpf, and you accuse me of being young and inexperienced."
"Touché, my dear Night Elf. Not that we can do anything about it now. I suggest you draw your bow."
The rogue drew his own blades and moved off to the right.
Ayana noticed that the demon was not really solid. Somehow she could see the building behind it, although it looked warped and distorted.
With a mighty roar the demon beat its wings, kicking up dust and leaves. Then it leapt into the air where it hung for a moment as if unable to decide what to do.
Edward lowered his swords and grimaced. For all his skill in combat he was not able to do much about an airborne opponent. Ayana winked at him, nocked an arrow and let it fly.
The demon shrieked in rage and pain and dove at Ayana with frightening speed. The Night Elf was able to launch a few more arrows before it was too close. By then both Winter and Edward charged in and Ayana took the liberty of springing backwards.
Because the demon was only partly solid, they had great difficulty damaging him. Sometimes their attacks went right through the creature.
The demon took a swipe at the Rogue with a blood tipped claw. Edward ducked but was not fast enough. The sharp talons raked his shoulder, ripped through the clothing and pierced the flesh underneath. Edward grunted and launched a vicious kick towards his enemy. It hit the demon in his abdomen and the impact caused it to stagger. Out of nowhere a growling ball of white fur sprang up and locked his jaws around the muscles of its wings. The demon reached behind him and got hold of the wolf's scruff. With a mighty thrust he flung Winter away, sending him crashing into the ruined walls nearby. The wolf moved feebly but didn't get up.
With newfound fury Ayana shot the demon again and again. In between her attacks Edward slashed at it with his swords, though his attacks were slower than before.
Finally the beast collapsed and the cold wind picked up again, swirling around the fallen demon. It lifted the body up and spun it around, faster and faster.
While spinning, a fine mist floated out of the vortex. Ayana briefly saw the image of a Draenei male before the vapour dissipated. He was smiling. Then another mist drifted out, and another. Countless of people, Alliance as well as Horde, floated out and drifted apart in the darkening sky. The last image to emerge was that of a male Night Elf. It flitted around until it finally came to hover before Ayana.
Shocked she stared at the smiling Elf. She would recognise that face anywhere. It was her grandfather: Sheras Authumshade. He inclined his head respectfully and when he looked up he grinned roguishly and winked. Then his form drifted slowly apart until nothing more remained of the old Sheras Authumshade. Ayana swallowed back her tears. It was a sad, but beautiful sight to see her grandfather after so long. She knew his spirit was finally at peace. And so would she.
A soft yelp brought her back to the present. Ayana immediately dropped her bow and ran towards Winter. The large wolf whimpered softly and put his head against Ayana's hand. She concentrated for a moment and cast the spell that would heal her friend fully. Winter got up, his eyes still half closed. Then he lifted his muzzle and licked his mistress' face. Ayana laughed and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his thick fur. She was so glad that he was okay.
"Hey! What about me? Can I get some attention?"
Ayana scowled and rounded on the Rogue. His clothes were still torn, but his shoulder looked much better and when he moved towards her his walk was smooth and even.
Edward held out his fist en then slowly opened it. In the palm of his hand a lay a ring. The silver glinted in the dying rays of the sun. The ring was shaped like the head of a dragon with long curved teeth. It had only one eye: a malicious looking ruby. The ring practically radiated evil.
Edward had not spoken while Ayana studied it and when she looked up to his face she saw that his eyes were fixed on the ring. His expression was unreadable.
"You can't take it with you Edward," she urged him softly, sensing his struggle. "This ring must be the root of the evil that we've just witnessed. It must be destroyed."
"It's priceless you know," Edward mumbled, more to himself then to Ayana. "Even with only one eye it would be worth a fortune. I could live the rest of my life in luxury."
Then he closed his fist and looked up into Ayana's eyes. "But you're right," he continued, a grim finality to his tone. "This ring is much too dangerous to leave lying around. But how do we destroy it?"
Ayana thought about it for a moment. "We could throw it into the ocean. Some places are so deep that people cannot survive there. I know just the spot. Follow me."
When they arrived on the beach of the Veiled Sea, Ayana took an arrow from her quiver. She also took out her skinning knife and set to work. Edward watched as the Night Elf sawed off the stone arrow tip and then proceeded to carve a sharp and narrow point to it.
"Give me the ring," she told him, holding out her hand. "I'll wedge it around this arrow and shoot it as far as I can into the depths of the sea."
The Rogue glanced at the ring and swallowed. He could just vanish and leave to sell it to the highest bidder. Sure, the evil would spread again, but he would be rich. It wasn't his business right?
"Edward…"
After what seemed like an eternity, Edward handed over the ring with a sigh. Ayana took it before he could change his mind and slid it over the wooden shaft until it would go no further down. She nocked an arrow and without looking at the Undead Rogue behind her she let it fly. The arrow and the ring disappeared into the depths of the Veiled Sea.
When she turned back she saw that Edward had moved away. He held the reins of a horse which stood patiently beside him. Ayana wrinkled her nose. She could see the bones of the thing right though the patches of flesh. It was disgusting and she averted he gaze quickly.
"Well," she said grudgingly, looking at Edward instead, "I guess I should thank you for helping me out there, and for handing over the ring."
"It was nothing, my dear lady," Edward replied, his former bravado firmly back in place. "We had a great time. We should really do that again." He swung himself into the saddle, winked at her and added: "But without the life threatening combat though."
Despite herself, Ayana had to smile. She looked away quickly so Edward couldn't see it. There was no need to encourage his cocky attitude any further. Her eyes drifted back towards the horse…and its bulging saddlebags…
Ayana narrowed her eyes in suspicion and shot Edward a withering glance. "You haven't," she snapped, her anger rising quickly. "I mean…you couldn't have…not after…" Words failed her and she almost stamped her foot in frustration.
Edward laughed and turned his horse. "Although I love to stay and chat some more, I also have a lot of relics to sell."
"Hey! You can't do that! Give those back, you…you…Horde scum!" Ayana started towards him, but Edward dug his heels in. The mare sprang forward, kicking up clumps of sand and patches of grass.
"See you around, my lovely Night Elf," Edward called over his shoulder. "Thanks for everything!"
Her anger getting the better of her, Ayana snatched up a stone from the beach and hurled it after the Rogue. It missed its mark entirely, of course, and bounced off a tree to his right. Edward's merry laughter and the sound of galloping hooves drifted off in the distance until finally, the forest of Darkshore was quiet once again. Ayana let out a frustrated sigh and straightened, running a hand through her hair. What was she thinking, throwing stones like a child? This was not like her. That…creature had really gotten under her skin. Winter rubbed against her thigh and growled softly, feeling her frustration. Ayana sighed, knelt down and took the great white head in her hands.
"At least we did found what we came for," she murmured. "I'm glad Sharas' soul is now free. If it wasn't for us he would still have been trapped inside that monster."
The wolf lifted his head and licked her affectionately.
Ayana laughed and stood, the tension from earlier now completely gone. "Yes, this journey was worth it. Even if it meant working with…Edward. But I'll never trust a member of the Horde again. You can be sure of that." She smiled down at her companion. "Shall we?"
Winter gave a 'woof' and started forward. Ayana threw one last glance behind her, the memory of her grandfather's image still alive. Moonlight bathed the Ruins of Mathystra in a soft, silver light. It gave the impression of a tranquil place, but Ayana knew better. The Naga might have been defeated now, but they would be back. And when they did she would be too.
First, however, the story of Sharas Autumnshade needed to be told. Ayana stood silently for a moment, thinking about what she had seen, what she had felt. Thinking about her grandfather and the things she would tell. Finally she followed the white wolf home.
Down in the depths of the Veiled Sea something was moving fast. Grurblglur was in his element. His strong flippers propelled him through the water. With his sharp claws he raked the bottom, sending up clouds of sand. Laughing and darting, he almost missed it. But there it was: a tiny glimmer had caught his eye. Grurblglur spun around and swam over to investigate. He moved some of the dirt and uncovered a beautiful silver ring, wedged around an arrow shaft. The head looked a bit like his stupid brother Rlgublur he thought. It was just as ugly. Grurblglur examined the ring and turned the arrow over and over in his claws.
Then a thought struck him. If he would wear it on his finger his brothers and sisters would certainly look up to him. Perhaps even the elders would. The ring looked very expensive and right now he might even be the richest Murlock in the village. Without a second thought he broke the arrow and took the ring off. A malicious grin spread over his toothed maw as he slid the dragonhead ring on his finger.